Harry Potter and the Post-Voldemort Adventures
by SidsAmazinFF
Summary: One week after the Battle Of Hogwarts, Harry is alone and depressed. He goes to Hagrid for comfort and discovers the pleasures of Rubeus' Finest Whisky. After getting Ginny and Hermione drunk and accidentally impregnating them both, Harry runs away and finds JK Rowling, who gives him a new time turner. He's in for an exciting Post-Voldemort Adventure. And so are you. Ily (girls) ;;
1. The Boy Who Drank

**The Boy Who Drank**

Harry Potter opened his eyes. The golden rays of sunlight flowing down between the curtains of his dormitory window told him he had slept into the afternoon. He sat up suddenly as if he was meant to be somewhere but then slouched back into the sheets, the memories of the last week seeping back to the forefront of his mind. Dark emotions intertwined with the memories, along with the faces of Lupin, Tonks and Fred, whose absence still made his insides churn uncomfortably. Harry had spent the past week at Hogwarts, where he decided he should stay, alone for a while. Ron and Hermione, who had been extremely supportive, understood Harry's need for some time alone. Ron had gone with his family back to the Burrow, where they had taken the body of Fred. They were now currently making the arrangements for his funeral, and Harry could not bear to witness their grief and suffering, for which he still felt partly responsible. Hermione had left the day following the Battle to go to her parents in Australia, where she would restore their memories back to normal. She and Harry would arrive at the Burrow tonight, where they would stay for Fred's funeral.

Harry rolled over and found a sandwich on the bedside table, left by Kreacher for his breakfast. He picked it up and ate it, got dressed, picked up some of the possessions that he had taken from Hermione's beaded bag prior to her departure and threw them into an empty, discarded trunk. He closed the trunk and pulled it after him down the stairs, wondering where he should go before he left for the Burrow. Most families had returned to their homes now, and Harry once again felt ghostly as he climbed out of the portrait hole and began striding the empty corridors alone. Voldemort's death gave him a flicker of hope for the future, although Harry still struggled with the reality of happiness, an emotion which had been foreign to him for a long time. After thinking about destroying Voldemort for so long, Harry was quite unsure as to what to do with himself. Not that long ago he had accepted that he would die young, and now, thrust into the reality of a long life ahead of him, free from the iron fist of Mr. Dursley and the threat of death at Voldemort's hands, Harry was gliding through time in a haze of confusion as to what to do next. 'I've killed Voldemort,' Harry told himself for the millionth time, 'Everything is going to be okay now.' He navigated mindlessly through the moving staircases and the Great Hall, trying to block out the harsh memories of war that his surroundings thrust upon him. Hagrid was the only person Harry felt comfortable with right now, so he directed his footsteps through the front doors and out onto the lawn, towards his recently repaired cabin. Though the lawn was still littered with debris and blood, matching the inside of the castle, Harry felt much better being outside, with the warm summer breeze and the nature sounds coming from the Forest. The Hogwarts Express would be arriving specially for Harry and Hagrid at three o'clock, and Fabian Prewett's watch now read half past twelve. Harry had been told by the driver, a few days previous, that a special carriage would be prepared for him and Hagrid, to accommodate for Hagrid's size. After getting to Platform 9 and ¾, they would apparate to the Burrow together.

Harry approached the cabin and knocked on the door. It opened and Hagrid's big bushy face appeared, still scarred and bruised. Harry noticed his eyes were wet. 'Harry!' Hagrid said loudly, and pulled him into a rib-crushing hug. 'Blimey, I was hoping yeh'd stop by fer a visit, I didn't like the idea of yeh all alone up in that castle. Come in, sit down!' Harry sunk into a chair and Hagrid went over to the kitchen, preparing the kettle. 'Where's Fang, Hagrid?' Harry asked delicately. Hagrid dropped the kettle and started shaking. 'Died las' night,' he sighed, picking up the kettle, 'his wounds from the Battle were cursed, incurable. I buried him meself this morning, over by Aragog.' Hagrid sniffed loudly. 'I'm sorry Hagrid.' 'S'okay Harry, he had a good life.' Hagrid fell into his chair and sighed. 'I've bin sad for sure, but to be honest I've bin worried more about how yeh're coping with things Harry. Are yeh okay?' 'I'm fine Hagrid.' 'Hope so,' said Hagrid, rising again to get the kettle. 'I gotta say though Harry, what yeh did was brave in that Forest. Facing You-Know-Who, well, Voldemort, yerself. Yeh showed the bravery of yer Dad that night!' 'Thanks, Hagrid.' Harry felt undeserving of Hagrid's praise and decided to voice this concern. 'I just wish I had given myself up to him earlier Hagrid. I could've saved Fred and Lupin and Tonks and anyone else that died that night.' Harry felt hot tears well up in his eyes. Hagrid handed him tea and patted him on the back, which caused Harry to spill most of it on himself. 'Yeh did the best yeh could, Harry, given the circumstances. Not to mention the fact that yeh killed the bastard in the end! Yeh're a hero now Harry! Everyone'll want to know yeh now yeh've fulfilled the prophecy, Chosen One and all that!' Harry smiled a little, but he still felt sad inside. There was a moment of silence. 'I know what'll soothe yer suffering Harry,' said Hagrid, and he turned around and started fiddling about in his cupboards. When he returned he was carrying a massive tankard of whisky, and two bucket sized mugs. 'Whenever I'm feeling crap, Harry, a dozen or two mugs of this stuff is the way ter go. Yeh don' need ter be a potions master ter brew it either, I make it meself out the back. "Rubeus' Finest Whisky", I almost went inter business selling the stuff to no-hopers down in Knockturn Alley.' Hagrid poured Harry a mug filled to the brim. 'I dunno, Hagrid, I only really drink Firewhisky. I'm not really into hardcore alcohol-' Harry began, but Hagrid cut across him, 'Just give it a go Harry. Yeh can't expect to go through what yeh've been through and not have a few drinks to ease the pain. I'd go insane if I was yeh!' Harry sighed and looked at the mug. In all his life he had never felt so exhausted and hurt, but all the same he didn't approve of Hagrid's drunken lifestyle. Memories of Lupin, Tonks and Fred's blank faces swam to the forefront of his mind, and suddenly he didn't care about his sobriety anymore. Harry threw aside the teacup and picked up the mug with two hands, draining it in one go. The taste was bitter and dirty and had none of the magical qualities of Butterbeer and Firewhisky, though it did smother the pain and blur the dead faces tormenting his mind. 'Good man, Harry,' chortled Hagrid, who was already refilling his own mug. 'I've got a stash under me bed, yeh can help yerself.' Harry stumbled over to the bed and pulled out a large box. He opened it and found it full of small bottles, reminiscent of Uncle Vernon's beer bottles in the fridge at Privet Drive. Harry pulled his trunk over and filled it with bottles from Hagrid's box. He didn't intend to become an alcoholic, but he would need this whisky just in case his grief became overwhelmingly severe in the future. 'Thanks Hagrid,' said Harry happily, 'I really appreciate it.' 'S'no trouble Harry,' burped Hagrid, 'Yeh deserve a good beverage or two.'


	2. The Burrow Again

**The Burrow Again**

The Hogwarts Express arrived at precisely three o'clock, and Harry and Hagrid made it to the platform at precisely four. Ignoring the driver's shouting and swearing they lugged their trunks onto the specially enlarged carriage. They stumbled into their seats and lay down in them. Harry felt sick from his whisky and was already regretting the binge. He wished he hadn't listened to Hagrid and was surprised that he had tried to get Harry to drink. Harry supposed that Hagrid had already been drinking before he arrived at the cabin and that offering Harry whisky was part of his own way of coping with the tragedies of the week previous. Harry rubbed his bleary eyes and looked around. The carriage was identical to all the others on the train, only it was much more spacious. Being here reminded Harry of his sixth year, when he was immobilized by Draco Malfoy in the Slytherin compartment. Tonks had been there to help him; an icy coldness clutched at Harry's heat once again. He wondered where Draco was now, probably in hiding with his parents who would surely be being hunted down with all the other surviving Death Eaters on the run. It occurred to Harry that Narcissa Malfoy had deceived Voldemort when asked if Harry was still alive, and if there would be a trial, Harry should let the Wizengamot know that the Malfoys weren't completely bad.

Hagrid started bellowing out a tale about when he used to take the train to Hogwarts (before he was expelled) and Harry pretended to listen, watching the scenery fly past with his head on the gently vibrating window. 'And yeh wouldn't believe the names they used ter call me Harry, "Rubeus the Round,", "Hagrid the Fat Slob", and I felt like shit Harry, I was an outsider even then! 'Course, the teachers weren't that bad, but…' Harry's stomach started rumbling, and right on cue the trolley lady appeared. 'Anything from the trolley dears?' she asked in her familiar old voice. 'Only if it's alcoholic, love!' Hagrid said loudly. To Harry's surprise, the trolley lady blushed. 'Well I might have something,' she said awkwardly, fumbling through some bottles on the bottom shelf, 'but I only usually stock for the children, and-' 'It's fine honey!' Hagrid cut across her, 'Just give me an' Harry the whole trolley, we're starved!' 'Oh, okay, I suppose so,' said the lady, and she pushed it inside the compartment, looking unsure of herself. 'Well, don't jus' stand there baby!' Hagrid belched, 'Come sit in here with us and eat!' She sat down next to Hagrid, looking suspiciously smitten, and fumbled with a chocolate frog wrapper. Harry fell asleep. Sometime later he jolted awake. 'Oh my God Hagrid,' Harry began, 'I just had the weirdest dream, I dreamt that the trolley lady was in love with you… what the-?' Harry couldn't believe his eyes. Hagrid and the trolley lady were entwined on the seat, kissing furiously. Harry shot a shield charm between them. 'Protego!' The trolley lady was thrown back onto the floor, and looking embarrassed, she got up and ran out of the compartment slamming the door behind her, like a little girl. 'What the hell is wrong with you Hagrid?' Harry shouted, 'First you offer me alcohol and now you're snogging the trolley lady? How old is she? Seventy?' But Hagrid wasn't listening. His eyes rolled back into his head and he fell into an alcoholic slumber. Harry sighed and continued his contemplation of the darkening scenery.

The sky was black by the time Harry and Hagrid arrived at Kings Cross station. Harry was glad when he finally got out of the train, as Hagrid had vomited throughout the compartment; whisky didn't help his motion sickness. They slowly dragged their luggage across the platform and through the barrier, making their way through the bright lights and crowds to the carpark. They found a shadowy area away from the muggles, and disapparated together. Harry felt the compression unbearable; his head still ached from the whisky. Their feet finally hit the swampy Burrow grass and they both collapsed onto the ground. 'YEEEOWWCH!' Hagrid shouted; he had sat on a gnome, which had bit him in a sensitive area. Hagrid drop-kicked it away. 'Jesus Christ, Harry, I'm a mess,' he groaned, looking down at his vomit drenched beard. 'Molly won't allow me inside. I'm gonna kip in the broom shed.' Harry watched him stumble off towards the shed, picked up their trunks and started dragging them towards the house. Suddenly, Harry was nervous. He knew he was about to enter the home of a grieving family, and he didn't know what to say to them. He hadn't talked to Ginny since the battle; would her feelings towards him have changed now that her brother had been killed? And what would he say to Mrs Weasley? Harry remembered seeing her boggart and was chilled with the knowledge that her worst fear had been realised… And it was his fault…

Harry opened the door into the dimly lit house. He put his trunk to the side and made his way, slowly to the living room. The room was empty, apart from Ginny, who was sitting on the couch in a loosely wrapped blanket. She was staring at the opposite wall, and barely noticed Harry enter the room. Harry felt extremely awkward, so said nothing and sat down on the couch beside her. 'Are you okay?' Harry asked after a long period of silence. Ginny looked at him. 'I don't know,' she whispered, and she collapsed against Harry, her head against his chest. She started shaking and crying uncontrollably, soaking Harry's robes. Harry stroked her hair. 'It will be alright,' Harry whispered, 'Voldemort is gone now. No one can hurt us anymore.' 'I've been hurting every day since the battle,' Ginny sobbed, 'No more Fred, and Tonks…' 'And Lupin,' Harry added. He waved his wand and set a fire in the fireplace, filling the room with warmth. Ginny retracted from Harry and lay against her cushion. Harry got up and opened his trunk, pulling out a bottle of Rubeus' Finest Whisky. He unscrewed the lid and drained it in one go. 'What is that?' asked Ginny. Harry showed her the bottle. 'It's some whisky that Hagrid brewed up. It helps numb the pain a little.' Ginny looked at the trunk. 'Do you have any more?' 'Yeah, heaps,' Harry said, and he pulled out two more bottles, one for himself and one for Ginny. She drank it, like Harry in one go. 'Oh my God, that is amazing,' she murmured. Getting to her feet, she went to the trunk, took out more bottles and threw some to Harry. They sat and drank until they were half blind. They giggled quietly at nothing. Just as Ginny was reaching regurgitation level, Hermione walked in, dropping her trunk on the carpet. 'Is that alcohol?' she asked Harry and Ginny in an accusing tone. 'No, it's fucking pumpkin juice, nerd,' Harry burped at her, sarcastically. 'You got a problem with two friends drinking whisky together after their fucking family and friends have been killed?' Hermione blushed. 'I'm sorry Harry,' she said, 'It's just that I care about you guys and-' 'Oh shut up!' Ginny interrupted, 'You don't know what it's like to have family die! While your parents were safe playing didgeridoos and riding kangaroos down under, my parents were putting their lives on the line dueling Death Eaters! MY BROTHER IS DEAD YOU SKANK!' Hermione burst into tears. 'I'm so sorry,' she sobbed, and she pulled out a whisky bottle from Harry's suitcase. She drained it and opened another one. 'Yeah, you drink you whorBLEEAAARRGH!' Ginny exclaimed, vomiting all over Harry's robes. Harry laughed and so did Ginny and Hermione. Half an hour later, the lounge littered with empty bottles of Rubeus' Finest Whisky, Harry, Hermione and Ginny crawled up the stairs and collapsed into Ginny's bedroom, shutting the door behind them…


	3. The Morning After

**The Morning After**

Ronald Weasley awoke early on the morning of the funeral in an unhappy state of mind. He'd had another bad dream about the Battle of Hogwarts, and once again been subjected to a first person view of Fred dying. Visions of the dream played back in his mind…'You're actually joking Perce?'…BOOM, the explosion, the world wrenched apart… 'Fred? Nooo!' Fred's face, the frozen smile of his last laugh… Ron shook his head. It wasn't good to be dwelling on the horrors of the Battle, everything was okay now and he had to move on. Besides, it wasn't all bad; his epic kiss with Hermione had been not only a highlight of the Battle, but of his life! Also, Harry, Hermione and Hagrid would have arrived last night, which meant he would not be alone any more.

A new positive energy flowed into Ron's body and he leapt up off his bed and went to find his best friends. He tripped over something and fell to the hard, wooden floor. It was a camping bed, made up by Ron's mother for Harry. The bed was empty. Maybe Harry was tired and fell asleep on the couch, Ron thought. He tiptoed down the stairs. It was still quite dark inside; the sun had barely risen above the hilly horizon. 'Lumos,' murmured Ron, and he made it down the stairs without tripping again. He walked through the kitchen and into the lounge. What he saw made him drop his wand. The lounge was littered with empty brown bottles, and the couch cushions were strewn across the floor. Two trunks were lying on the floor, one of them open with the contents (clothes, spellbooks, broken glass and more bottles) spewing out everywhere. Had Harry and Hermione had a party last night with Mundungus Fletcher in the lounge? Ron picked up a bottle, which read "Rubeus' Finest Whisky". Mum is gonna have a heart attack, Ron thought. What the hell had happened? He decided that he would have to find Harry and Hermione, and set off for Ginny's room, where Hermione should be sleeping. He walked up to her door, opened it and walked in. 'WHAT THE FUCK!?' he screamed. Ginny, Hermione and Harry were lying together on Ginny's bed, with their robes lying discarded on the floor. Ron's shout had woken them up; Harry immediately swore and dove for his wand. He was too slow. 'STUPEFY!' Ron screamed, and a flash of red light lit up the dim room. Ginny screamed as Harry fell, unconscious, to the ground. He turned his wand on her but Hermione had already found hers. She disarmed Ron and then flicked her wand upwards; Ron was dragged upwards in the air, suspended by his ankle. Ron's face was demented. 'I hate you!' he cried, 'I hate you all!'

The day of the funeral had started badly, to say the least, although Harry, Hermione and Ginny had been extremely lucky that none of the adults had awoken to the shouting and cursing in Ginny's bedroom. Hermione was distraught when she realized what had happened the night previous, and decided to quickly perform a memory charm on Ron, erasing all of his memory of that morning. She then revived Harry and cleaned up the lounge with Ginny, while Harry carried the now unconscious Ron back to his bedroom. He prayed that Hermione's memory charm would work; he too felt regretful about his drunken antics.

Mrs Weasley awoke to a seemingly normal, unhappy morning, and made a huge cooked breakfast for everyone. Hagrid had cleaned himself up and managed to squeeze through the back door into the kitchen. He moaned loudly about his headache as he was served twenty stacked, golden pancakes. Harry, Hermione and Ginny sat far apart from each other around the table and avoided looking at each other, though kept glancing nervously at a confused Ron. Eventually Hagrid stopped groaning and they ate in silence, everybody depressed. Mrs Weasley cried silently as she ate her pancakes; her husband staring at his without eating. 'The Tonks family are arriving at noon.' she said, looking at George's empty chair and crying again. George Weasley hadn't left his room since arriving back at the Burrow, except to use the bathroom. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Ron and Ginny had all tried to talk to him, but nothing they said helped, for they too were gripped with terrible grief. Fred's absence, it seemed, had torn out the vibrant aura of The Burrow, and Harry wondered if it would ever be the same here again. Harry stared at his pancakes, and like Hermione, Ginny and Hagrid he felt nauseous and disgusting. For a moment he imagined his scar was burning, but remembered it was only Rubeus' Finest Whisky eating away at his brain cells. Ron, now finished his third helping of pancakes, got up and went to have a shower, patting Harry on the back as he passed. Memories of him screaming 'I hate you!' flooded into Harry's burning head and he felt thoroughly, utterly, miserable.

The day passed in a blur, and Harry found himself surrounded by mourners that afternoon, a blurry mass of sadness surrounding him to match his insides. The summer sun bore down upon him that afternoon, as he, along with the Weasley brothers, carried three coffins to the orchard. The celebrant stood in front of the three holes in the ground and waffled about the perfection of the three deceased people lying in front of him, how they would be sorely missed, and how they were brave martyrs who died fighting for a noble cause. And none of them would have had to die if I had just handed myself over a little earlier, thought Harry.

His grief climaxed in sync with his nausea, and he cried hot tears as he suddenly vomited all over himself. Everyone looked round, and he heard members of both the Tonks and Weasley families gasp in alarm. Ron lifted Harry and helped him away from the stunned mourners back into the house. 'Blimey Harry, what's wrong with you? Have you overdosed on puking pastilles or something?' Harry sat down. 'I'm fine Ron, just go back to the service. Your family needs you.' Ron looked at him closely. 'You've been acting strange all morning. So have Hermione and Ginny. Would you mind telling me what's going on?' Harry forced a sudden burst of anger. 'Fred has died Ron! So have Tonks and Lupin! I've just faced my own death and survived a terrible childhood! And you expect us to be having a good time? You go back to them, now!' Ron looked apologetic. Saying nothing, he went back outside, shutting the kitchen door behind him.


	4. New Life

**New Life**

The next two weeks passed slowly and uneventfully. Harry, Hermione and Ginny had found an opportunity to talk one morning while Ron was taking his shower. 'I didn't mean for any of that stuff to have happened that night,' Harry whispered, 'we were all drunk and had no self control.' 'We did choose to get drunk,' said Ginny, 'I'm not complaining about what happened. It was fun.' 'Easy for you to say,' whispered Hermione, 'But you guys are together, I shouldn't have been involved! I'm with Ron! Remember his reaction? And also-' she added, 'I am thinking of removing his memory charm.' 'WHAT?!' exclaimed Harry and Ginny together. Harry was suddenly fearful. 'If he doesn't remember walking in on us,' he began, 'no harm is done, right? Besides, we were drunk and never wanted it to happen, but how could we explain that to Ron? He would never talk to us again!' Ginny nodded in agreement and kissed Harry; Hermione looked torn but eventually nodded. 'Fine,' she said, 'it never happened, so let's move forward.'

As the days passed, it seemed that the three of them would be able to move forward, and Harry had made it a month without drinking a sip of Rubeus' Finest Whisky. One morning, Harry was writing his resume to send to the Ministry. Now that he had finished his mission of killing Voldemort, it was time to set himself up for the future, and finally pursue his old ambition of becoming an Auror. Under the section 'qualifications' he wrote 'seven OWLs, Outstanding endorsement in Defence Against The Dark Arts'. Under experience, he wrote, 'hunted down and killed the most dangerous dark wizard of all time. Also two time survivor of Avada Kedavra.' Harry chuckled to himself as he reread it. With Kingsley Shacklebolt of the Order as Minister for Magic, and with this resume, he was just about guaranteed to get a job. He had almost forgotten all about his post-Voldemort dilemmas when Hermione and Ginny entered the room. Hermione had decided she would be going back to Hogwarts with Ginny to complete her seventh year; they had been quite close since the experience in Ginny's bedroom. 'Oh my God, you are arrogant,' said Hermione as she read Harry's resume. 'Harry, we have to talk,' said Ginny quietly. She looked scared. 'What's going on?' Harry asked her. She started shaking and burst into tears. Hermione shut the bedroom door, and cast 'Muffliato' onto it. Harry reached out to touch Ginny but she shrunk away and continued crying. 'Hermione?' Harry asked. Hermione turned around from the door. She too was in tears. 'Harry, we're pregnant,' she told him. The world suddenly darkened and swayed a little under Harry's feet. 'Wha-?' 'To you!' Ginny sobbed, 'We're both pregnant to you!' Harry shook, 'Is this some sort of joke?' he asked, but he knew it wasn't; Ginny never cried, let alone like this. 'What are we going to do?' Hermione asked. Wow, thought Harry, a problem that Hermione can't solve. This is bad. Just as Harry was about to answer, a shout rang out from the yard below. 'YEEEOWWCH!' They ran to the window. It was only Hagrid, he had sat on another gnome.

He had to run; he had to escape! Harry was scared in a way he had never experienced before. Not only had he somehow impregnated Ron's sister, but also the girl he was in love with! There was no escaping it, no way to reverse what had happened… Why did this have to happen to Harry? He had only just gotten over the deaths of loved ones, now he was grieving the creation of new life, of his offspring! Harry was only eighteen years old, how could he be a father to two mothers? There must be a way out, there must be a loophole to this situation. He could not ask Hermione or Ginny to have an abortion; that would be cruel and probably destroy his relationship with everybody close to him.

Harry racked his brain. Whenever he had been in an extremely disastrous situation in life, there had always been a magical solution to his problems. There was no way to reverse what had happened… _or was there? _Harry remembered back to his third year, when Sirius was sentenced to the Dementor's kiss… all had seemed lost, until he found out Hermione could reverse time with a simple pendant on her necklace… a time turner. But how could he get one? The entire supply of time turners was destroyed during his battle at the Ministry in his fifth year. Stuck on the unrelenting train of time, Harry knew there was no way out of this mess; he would have to face it like a man.

Harry hastily packed his trunk and found his invisibility cloak. Throwing it over himself, he hurried down the stairs as silently as he could. Hermione and Ginny were sure to tell Mrs Weasley they were pregnant soon, and he couldn't stand to see her face when she found out he was a two timing father! He made it down the stairs and out the back door. Where was he going to go? Harry needed to run away, far far away where no one could find him. Grimmauld Place was too obvious, and also accessible for Ron and Hermione. Oh how awful it was! He had thought he would be remembered as a warrior who rescued the wizarding world from chaos, not as a promiscuous ass hole who walked out on his children… oh well, he thought, it's too late. I must leave and never return.

Harry ran to the edge of the lawn, dragging his trunk behind him. Taking one last look at The Burrow, he turned on the spot and disapparated. Squeezed down through the darkness, he thought inexplicably of the Forest of Dean, and found himself lying amongst the brown leaves of the forest floor. He had no tent, and would have to find some abandoned muggle house to stay in while he thought about what to do. It was late in the afternoon, but the heat was still weighing down on him, the sun dazzling through openings in the canopy of leaves above. He had arrived at what appeared to be some sort of trail, twisting long through the trees and out of sight. Harry was vaguely reminded of the previous year, when he was in hiding here for a different, much nobler reason. As he followed the trail, he wondered what was going on in The Burrow now. Mr and Mrs Weasley would surely have found Harry to be missing by now, and upon questioning Hermione and Ginny, they would discover their pregnancy, and realise what Harry had done…

It was too much; tears started running down Harry's face. This life was going from one extreme to the next, and always, it seemed, Harry had to face his battles alone. There was no one; everyone he cared about in the world was in that house, and surely they would all be thinking of him in hatred right now. Harry collapsed to the ground and took a break. He was thirsty, and opened his trunk to look for his whisky. There was one, small bottle left. Harry looked at it in disgust. This bottle, in his hands, was the reason why Harry had mindlessly betrayed Ron, the reason why he was now a deadbeat father, why he was now in hiding from his loved ones… He threw the bottle with all his might and smashed it against a yew tree. 'Aguamenti,' he said, and he drunk from his wand like a fountain. When he had drunk his fill, he looked up to the sky and screamed, 'WHY DOES MY LIFE HAVE TO BE SO FUCKED UP? SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP ME!' His voice echoed slightly and then faded, answered only by the laughing birds in the trees around him.

Harry picked up his trunk and followed the trail for what felt like miles. Finally, he came to a clearing. In front of him stood a large old double story house, with white, rotting weather boards and small dark windows. This, surely, was what Harry was in need of, an assumingly abandoned place to stay in the middle of nowhere. He would have to make sure it was abandoned, first. 'Homenum Revelio,' exclaimed Harry, pointing his wand at the house. The spell, which Harry had never used before, seemed to x-ray the house. Harry's wand vibrated and he sensed the presence of at least one person inside. He considered going back, but decided against it; the house was the perfect refuge and he had already been walking for hours. Harry would have to expel the muggle, or muggles, inside using magic. Approaching the door, he decided to knock. Immediately, the door opened. Standing in front of him was a woman. She was a lot older than Harry, probably middle aged, and had a perfect, blonde hairstyle. She was also wearing jewelry and an expensive-looking dress. 'Harry,' she said quietly, 'I've been waiting for you to visit. Won't you come in?'


	5. A Second Chance

**A Second Chance**

Taken aback by the woman's knowledge of his name, Harry followed her inside. If the outside of the house had a neglected feel to it, the inside was the polar opposite. Beautifully furnished, with large, static muggle paintings adorning the walls, Harry felt this was the home of somebody very important. Somebody who knew him! It was a lot to take in. The woman smiled at him and gestured into the living room, where there were two large armchairs either side of a round coffee table, with tea and biscuits. The lady was evidently expecting him, and therefore must have had some sort of magical ability, however her muggle clothes and paintings suggested otherwise. Harry took a seat in the right hand arm chair. The woman hesitated, then sat down in her chair.

'So you've been expecting me?' asked Harry. The woman smiled again. 'Yes,' she said simply. There was a pause. 'I'm sorry,' said Harry slowly, 'it's just that, I only came to this forest by chance, and I have no idea who you are. How is that possible?' The woman thought for a moment, and then said, 'I suppose it is hard for you to comprehend. Within the dimension of your world, I have a limited presence. Whereas outside your world, I am everything, the very platform on which your world is built, the alpha and the omega.' She stopped, and watched Harry to see how he would reply. Harry had no idea what the woman was talking about, something about dimensions and platforms. If she hadn't known Harry's name, he would have suspected her to be insane. Harry decided to play along. 'So how do you know me? What am I to you?' Again, she paused, and replied, 'I suppose, to you, I am God. I created you, I formed this world around you, I decided where and when and how you would come to exist. I planned your mind and formed your will. I suppose, therefore the more important question… is what are you to me?'

Harry was now sure she was insane. She talked with an air of understanding reminiscent of Dumbledore; however nothing she said made the slightest bit of sense. She claimed that she was God… what was she doing in a house in the middle of the Forest of Dean? As soon as the question arose in his brain, the woman answered it, reading his mind. 'I am here to help you, Harry. In my world, you are a phenomenon. Your suffering and battles have been thrust into the worlds of others, now you are part of their world and a valid, real individual. They have compassion for you, they are gods over you as much as I am. They wish for you to be happy, to no longer be lonely, to have control over your own life. I have come into your world, therefore, to save you.' Harry didn't know what to say. He could not comprehend the woman's claims of some other world, however he did understand one thing; this woman knew of his struggles and wanted to help him. 'What must I do then to save myself?' he asked, 'I have ruined my life.' 'Take this,' the woman said, and from nowhere she pulled out a golden necklace, with a familiar looking pendant hanging from it. 'A time turner,' whispered Harry. 'Yes,' said the woman, 'with this I am giving you control over your own life. I have been lord over your fate for too many years now, and your suffering has made me very rich, in my world. I therefore give you a way out; a supreme ability to control your fate. I hope you use it wisely. I care about you greatly.'

Harry took the time turner and looked at it. All the possibilities that he had never considered before suddenly enveloped him; he was overwhelmed. 'Thank you,' he whispered to the woman. She winked at him and suddenly Harry felt dizzy, falling to the ground.

Harry looked around him. Suddenly he was outside, in the clearing. The house had disappeared. All that was left was the time turner. The woman had gone.


End file.
